


Hello...is it Meow You’re Looking For?

by chronosaurus (kimnamjin)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Attempt at Humor, Cat antics, Comedy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, Record store employee!Jisung, Slice of Life, Soonie is minho's only cat in this cause we on real seungmin mode, Strangers to Lovers, and soonie is kinda evil, apartment neighbors, but it all works out in the end ;), college student!minho, gratuitous use of cat humor, i just wanted to make a character tag for soonie asdfj, it’s relatively romantic..., lets pretend this counts as a vday fic, minho is a loving cat dad, or is this a...., she is the main catalyst of this story after all, the CATalyst haha im so funny, this is cute i pwomise uwu, you decide !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus
Summary: “H-hi, neighbor?” Minho managed to force past the lead-ball stuffed down his throat.As if on cue, Soonie wriggled free from Minho’s arms, and scampered over to the stranger’s skinny-jean clad legs. She then began to nuzzle herself flush against the denim, her tail curling around his ankle as if a piece of living jewelry. As if they’re the best of friends. As if sheknowshim.“Soonie?” The stranger asked with a cock of his head, seeming to conveniently gloss over Minho’s presence. Strange. Considering Minho kinda, you know, lowkey broke into said stranger’s apartment.The cat meowed in delight, and Minho could hear her purring from his spot petrified on the stranger’s rug; the rumbling sounding slightly stilted, from how it reverberated against the grain of his neighbor’s denim jeans.But wait a second—“You know my cat?”based off the prompt: ‘my stupid cat snuck out and got into your open window so i followed him inside and you came home earlier than i expected and found me in the middle of your living room but i swear i’m not a burglar ok’
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 17
Kudos: 505





	Hello...is it Meow You’re Looking For?

Han Jisung is _exhausted._ He just finished his shift at the local record store— _42 Vinyls_ , owned and operated by his best friend Chan. Which, contrary to popular belief, does in fact carry more than 42 products. And he now wants nothing more than to wrap himself into a blanket burrito, and crawl into bed for a few days. Maybe even a couple _decades._

As he trudged down the dim hallway of his apartment building, already reaching for the keys safely tucked away in his jeans pocket, Jisung noticed _something_ sat in the hall before him.

It appears to be a small, furry lump. Sat neat and pretty at the plaster junction between his apartment’s door and his neighbor’s to the left. It could easily be mistaken for a child's plaything, accidentally left unattended after an impromptu hallway romp. 

But upon closer inspection, Jisung’s bag-laden eyes popped open in delight—that small, furry lump is a cat!

Although _small_ seems a bit of a misnomer; the thing is downright _huge._ Or as his friend Felix would say, it’s an _“absolute unit”._

It’s a chunky thing, with a thick pelt of white and tawny auburn fur. Its yellow eyes stared up at him, wide and expectant, as if it were waiting specifically for Jisung’s arrival. And he’d believe just that, save for the fact he’s never seen the fluffy critter a day in his life. 

Jisung has _always_ had a soft spot for cats, the fondness even edging out that for their canine counterparts. But sadly Jisung is unable to keep a cat of his own, as his mom is _deathly_ allergic. It’s to the point where he either gets a cat and kills his mom during her visits, or just...lives vicariously through other people's feline friends. 

Which, coincidentally, is exactly what he's doing now. 

“Hi there, buddy.” Jisung cooed, kneeling down before the tubby cat. It’s sitting on its plump haunches, tail idly flicking about. Does it belong to his neighbor in apartment 8? It must, given how it is lounging adjacent to said flat. That, _and_ the fact that random stray cats don't just strut about Jisung’s building. And yet the kitty has a certain air of nonchalance about it, as if it has no real allegiance to something as trivial as an owner. 

The cat mewled expectantly as Jisung left some gentle skritches beneath its chin—he thinks he can read that message loud and clear, despite being a tad deficient in speaking _kittynese._

“Are you hungry?” He asked, unsure of why he’s talking so seriously with a random cat in the hallway. He must be more mentally drained from work than he thought. 

He’s met with another enthusiastic meow in response, effectively confirming his suspicions. 

Jisung shoveled a hand into his pocket, fishing around for something— _anything—_ he could offer the cat. His fingers landed on something beady, fleshy and vaguely wrinkled. 

A dried apricot—if the preserved fruit could get _more_ dried up. Why does he even _have_ a stray apricot in his pocket, anyways?! 

But after a quick search through the internet, the fruit is deemed safe for kitty consumption. Meaning, it will have to do. 

He held the dried fruit out to the cat, perched neatly in the center of his palm. The plump feline slunk forward, all liquid movements and undulating grace. It hovered its velvety nose above the apricot, and Jisung strained to make out the barely perceptible sniffs as it considered the meager offering. 

It must have checked out; a few seconds later the kitty snapped up the fruit, horking it down before lazily licking its chops in contentment. 

The cat chirped, seemingly as a _thank you._ Jisung’s idle smile widened, reaching forward to pet a gentle stripe down the cat’s back. Its fur feels like pure velvet, and the feathersoftness reminds him of the sherpa blanket unfurled on his bed. 

Oh right—his bed. He’s still bone-tired, in spite of the measly distraction offered by his new feline pal. 

“I’ll see you soon, um,” Jisung continued to speak softly to the cat, tenderly reaching for the pink collar around its neck, “Soonie?” 

That’s the name engraved on the golden, heart-shaped tag fastened to the collar; _Soonie._

Jisung rose to his feet, much to the newly identified Soonie’s dismay. It yowled in despair at the sight of Jisung making the two-foot journey to his neighboring apartment door. Its tail swished with newfound vigor, a non-verbal plea for Jisung to stay put. 

Jisung threw the feline a sympathetic look, his eyes just as starry and pleading as the kitty waddling towards his door. An aching pang echoed through his heart, which is filled to bursting with adoration for the cat. 

Soonie meowed again, and Jisung _swears_ it sounded like _“please, don't go!”_

But maybe he's just exhausted. Oh right. He's just exhausted, and Soonie's shrill yowl was very much nonsyllabic.

“Goodnight, Soonie. I’ll see you later!” Jisung called out with a small, perhaps slightly deranged wave to the kitty. He shoved his key into the smudged bronze lock on his door, and turned the knob. The movements so practiced and easy, that he didn’t even need to take his eyes off Soonie to get his door open. The cat sat back on its hind legs, pupils dilated to pure black saucers as it watched Jisung’s every move. Its tail flicked about like a serpent; seemingly satisfied with Jisung’s final exclamation. 

_Phew—_ Jisung’s just relieved the pudgy feline didn’t try to weasel its way through the sliver opened in his door. He fears the chunky cat would get hopelessly stuck if it tried. 

But with that crisis averted, Jisung took that as his cue to slip inside his apartment once and for all. If Soonie sent him a parting meow as he did so, he ignored it for the sake of his poor, enamoured heart. Alas, Jisung’s heart is as soft as candy floss and just as easily melted, and Soonie held a proverbial blow torch to the cushy muscle thumping away in his chest.

Yes, Jisung is a goner for that tubby tabby, just like that. 

Jisung closed the door to his apartment with a hardly audible _click_ of the lock activating, and quickly typed a note in phone as he staggered towards his bedroom. 

_Buy a bag of cat treats_

And then he flopped down on his bed, and snuggled up with his sherpa blanket. Soft and warm. Like fur. He succumbed to the stinging fatigue nipping at his eyes, as visions of starry-eyed felines pranced through his dreams. 

  
  
  
  


(ू ͒•‧̫•ू⑅ ͒)

  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Jisung went to the local pet store and did exactly as his note said. 

And who does he see lazing across the outdated carpet, when he returns to his apartment building after his trip?

“Soonie! Hi, buddy.” Jisung cheered at the sight of the now familiar feline, furry body limp and lounging against the convergence between the wall and the floor. His heart ignited with affection as the cat’s previously unbothered attention snapped up at his voice. 

Jisung ripped the bag of cat treats open, and held out a small handful to the cat. He may not be an expert at kitty-keeping, but he thinks it’s safe to say Soonie _much_ prefers the feline-designated snacks in comparison to the random apricot he found in his pocket. 

If the way the cat scarfed down the smattering of treats in under a minute is anything to go by. 

And from that day on, the two began a routine of sorts:

Jisung would stumble through his apartment building, drunk off exhaustion and vision on the cusp of swaying into inky oblivion. 

And there would be Soonie, leisurely splayed out across the carpet without a care in the world. As soon as Jisung would step out of the dingy elevator bank, its head would pop up like a furry jack-in-the-box, yellow eyes wide and owlish and full of tangible anticipation. And hunger—Jisung can’t deny that, as much as he likes to think the cat has a particular soft-spot for their hallway hang out sessions. 

Like clockwork, the tubby cat would toddle over to Jisung, before collapsing at his feet with familiarity that seems nigh ingrained in its kitty-conscience. With practiced ease, Jisung then unties the small pouch of cat treats he now keeps stored in his work bag, and lets Soonie have at the treats. In moderation, of course. His kitty friend is already on the pudgy side, and he doesn't want to enable a possible case of feline-obesity. 

And if Jisung didn’t know better, he’d say with each passing day Soonie creeps closer and closer to his own door, leaving the rest of the hallway far behind. But he _must_ be imagining things. Soonie _obviously_ has a loving owner that it returns to in the interim between meetings with Jisung. The cat’s tag _is_ heart-shaped after all! So the cat’s loving owner may be a complete mystery, but _someone_ has to be responsible for the tabby! 

But he couldn’t help feeling a tad guilty—he’s not inadvertently stealing Soonie away from its rightful owner, is he?

Maybe he should hold off with the treats, before the ever-hungry cat tries to subtly slink through Jisung’s apartment door. 

But that wouldn’t ever happen, right? 

  
  
  


(ू ͒•‧̫•ू⑅ ͒)

  
  
  
  


Lee Minho is _exhausted._ He had to suffer through not one, but _two_ exams today at his university. And now? Now, he’s craving nothing more than the warmth of cuddling up with his cat until sleep overtakes him. 

But unfortunately for Minho, the universe seems to have some sort of vendetta against his life being _simple._

“Soonie?” Minho called, once he flicked on the lights to his apartment. He dropped his virtually hundred-pound backpack to the floor with the dull _thunk_ of its jostling contents, and began to search for his beloved cat. 

Soonie is known to be a tad...naughty. She has a penchant for breaking into the _supposedly_ hidden bags of cat food Minho _thinks_ he keeps out of sight, and out of the reach of prying paws. And yet, the next time he reaches for her bag of kitty snacks, the tub is half-empty! She _also_ has a tendency to gnaw and chew on the legs of his furniture. Just ask the fang marks carved into the wood of his armoire. And _sometimes,_ when she’s particularly disobedient, she _pees on the fucking floor._ She has a litter box! Right outside the threshold to the kitchen! It’s neat, and comfy, and pink like her collar! 

Why she—at no apparent reason—throws all human-cat civility agreements to the wind, and decides to urinate right on his polished hardwood floors? Minho has no goddamn idea. Maybe that’s her way of getting back at her doting owner for barring her from gorging herself on salmon treats. 

If that's the case, maybe he deserves it. 

“Soon’? C’mere girl!” Minho hollered once again, anticipating the telltale jingle of Soonie’s collar as she pads into the living room. 

But he heard _nothing._ No metallic clanking from her golden tag, no muffled meows, no dull _thud_ of paws landing on wood paneling. _Nothing._ Just eerie, stifling silence. 

And _that_ is why dread is starting to bubble up in Minho’s tummy. 

Did someone cat-nap Soonie?! He willingly lets her relax in the hallway while he’s at school, but what if his reckless behavior finally bit him in the butt?! What if some _miscreant_ strolled by, liked the look of Soonie’s mottled coat, and plucked her right from the hall! What if...what if they _made_ her into a coat?! A very tiny and ill-thought out one, but—

But then it hit Minho like a ton of bricks; he didn't even _let_ Soonie into the hall today! Cat-stealing hooligans be damned! Meaning, by that logic, she _should_ be safely tucked away in the apartment. Key word? _Should._

Sure, there's no shortage of modest Ikea furniture she could be lazing under, effectively out of view, but at the sound of Minho’s voice she _always_ comes trotting over. Always. But as of right now? His kitty companion, the feline love of his life, is _gone_. 

“Soonie?! Soo—oh no. Oh _god.”_ Minho’s already racing heart just made a dive bomb straight to his toes. The blood in his veins turned to icy rivers. His eyes threatened to turn to stone in their un-blinking, petrified agape. 

The door leading to his balcony is _open._

He must have been so engrossed in cramming last-minute slivers of knowledge into his cranium before his exams, that he forgot to close it all the way. It’s only opened a measly crack, but it’s wide enough for a certain pudgy feline to squeeze through. In almost purposeful defiance of her pot-belly. 

_This is fine, she's probably just getting some fresh air! She's probably just chillin’ out there!_ Minho screamed at his reeling subconscious. But the placating words replaying through his brain on loop are horribly unconvincing, to say the least. 

Case and point: Minho is out on his balcony in what felt like a nanosecond, throwing open the door with enough force for it careen into his living room wall. Nothing—there’s no sign of his beloved pet on his modest balcony either. 

“Soonie!” He cried desperately into the cool night air, and the thudding of his heart in his ears almost drowned _it_ out. 

_A mewl._ A clearly feline, _unmistakable_ mewl. A mewl he’d be able to identify out of a line up of a thousand kitties. It’s Soonie!

Minho doesn’t think he’s ever been so _relieved._ Soonie’s alive! She’s ok! And if by the calm lilt of her meow, she sounds downright _serene._

But wait a minute, where _is_ she, exactly? 

She’s not curled up on the wicker rocking chair he set up on his balcony. Or on top of the mosaic side table, with a forgotten and empty bottle of ginger kombucha sat on the jewel-tone tiles. 

But he _heard_ her, he swears! He may be appropriately terrified from Soonie’s antics, but he at least has _some_ of his wits about him! Maybe she’s on the floor, or under the chair, or—

Oh shit. 

Looks like Minho spoke too soon. Looks like that relief was temporary, _fleeting._

Soonie meowed again, as if taunting Minho in an elaborate game of hide and seek. _To the right._ Behind a pane of thick plexiglass. In horror, his eyes flew to his neighbor’s balcony door. It’s _open_ . _That’s_ where Soonie got herself into.

_Goddamn you, Soonie! You evil, mad genius in the body of an overweight tabby!_

And goddamn his neighbor, for being _just_ as scatterbrained as Minho!

Now, Minho has come to an impasse—what the hell does he do now?! Does he leave a note stuck to his neighbor’s front door? 

_Hi neighbor! We’ve never met, but I think my dumbass cat snuck into your apartment? Please return her at the earliest convenience._

That’s an idea. He could just wait it out, ear pressed to his own front door for the sound of human (or feline) activity at his neighbor's place. 

But then a realization burst into his head with enough force to send him _unconscious_ to the terra-cotta floor _._

Soonie, the little shit she is, has no respect for human property. She can, and probably _will,_ claw, bite, and _pee_ her way through his poor neighbor’s apartment. Oh no—what if she already _has._

Minho is a broke college kid! He can’t afford _that_ level of property damage! 

He needs to get Soonie back, _and quick._ Before she does something her owner will really, _really_ regret. 

Their apartment building’s balconies are separated between residents by a skimpy, waist high concrete wall. The perfect height for Soonie to perch on to bathe in the afternoon sun’s rays. And then, apparently, hop off to creep into his unsuspecting neighbor's abode like it’s nothing! 

Also, the perfect height for someone lanky like Minho to clamber over with little to no effort. 

Which is _exactly_ what he did. He hooked one leg over, straddled the barrier like a bucking rodeo horse, and then swung over his other leg. After some relatively bumbling climbing on his part, he is literally and figuratively over the wall. He landed in his neighbor’s sparsely decorated balcony with—no pun intended—cat-like grace. 

He peeked into the stranger’s apartment, feeling more like a cat _burglar_ than a cat _wrangler._

But he suddenly couldn't care less, because nestled inside on an exotic floor rug, is Soonie. She looks fine; in fact, she looks just _peachy._ In spite of the stress she put her poor owner through, Soonie is relaxing without a care in the world. 

Minho exhaled a loaded breath he didn’t realize he was holding. And then, he slipped through the door like his agile form is no more than wisps of smoke. 

His neighbor’s apartment is quite homey, and artfully furnished. Tassels and glass ornaments hang from the walls, mingling with vintage prints of far-off cities and posters of defunct air-travel services. Pastel Pan-Am and _Visit Timbuktu_ all mashed together into something beautifully exotic, yet somehow skirting around the edge of pretentious. 

Stained-glass lamps on baroque tables seep fuzzy, kaleidoscopic light into the living room. A studded leather couch is pressed up against the back wall, and surrounded by framed photos of smiling faces. Minho couldn’t make out much, but he saw a pair of starry-eyes and softly rounded cheeks appear in a majority of the Kodak instant-film prints. 

He must be the owner of this apartment. The apartment his dumb cat decided to sneak into, because she has some deep-seated hatred for her loving owner. But after a quick once over, Minho deemed the residence both teeth-mark and pee-stain free. _Thankfully_ . This guy seems to have expensive taste, and Minho _definitely_ doesn’t have the funds to replace any of his litany of chic adornments. 

Soonie seems to have taken pity on him tonight. He still firmly stands by his theory that she’s secretly a demon inhabiting the body of a tubby feline. 

“Soonie! You are in _so_ much trouble, do you hear me?!” Minho barked at his cat, who up until now had been idly stretched out on the woven rug like _she_ pays the rent. A few feet away is a crumpled, empty bag of—oh no— _cat treats._

Soonie meowed, and licked up the side of her mouth. _That's right. What are you gonna do about it?_ The sassy mewl said, as her fangs glinted in the lowlight. All Minho could manage was a roll of his eyes. 

“Soonie, you fat bastard.” Minho griped, stalking over to investigate the husk of the foil bag. As he suspected, it once housed kitty treats. Although after Soonie got her paws on it, all it contains is stale, vaguely litter-box smelling air.

His cat at least had the decency to look _a little_ sheepish, as Minho sent her an admonishing glare. As sheepish as a sly kitty with a rounded belly filled with a stranger’s cat treats permits. 

Does his neighbor even _own_ a cat? Besides the now finished bag of cat food, there’s absolutely no evidence of his next door neighbor having a kitty companion of their own. There’s no food bowl, no water bowl, no mangled toys dotting the floor. No cat tree in the corner by the plastic ficus. No painted-over claw marks in the legs of his leather sofa. Heck, there isn't even a _litter_ box. Why does his neighbor even _have_ cat treats to begin with? 

But he doesn’t have time to ponder the stranger’s apparent taste for cat treats—he has a certain feline to reprimand. Lovingly. 

He plopped down on the colorful woven rug, and scooped Soonie up with the familiar ease gained by their years of interspecies friendship. She curled up against his chest, and had the audacity to _purr._ As if she didn’t just swipe 30 years off Minho’s life with one simple flick of a paw. 

Minho scoffed, “You think I'm gonna let you off the hook _that_ easy?” Soonie’s purring revved up, sending thrums through his cable knit sweater. He held her flush to his chest, despite her being the naughtiest kitty in the city. Maybe even the world. But he _is_ gonna let her off that easy, because he can never _truly_ stay mad at his—admittedly wayward—feline friend. But that doesn’t mean she won’t be kitty-grounded for _at least_ two weeks after this. And he’s cat-proofing his balcony door. And maybe his neighbor’s, while he’s at it. 

Minho thought the universe was _finally_ , partially, on his side. He found Soonie, his neighbor’s apartment is pee-free, and this inordinately long waking nightmare is over.

Or so he thought. 

While he was entranced on stroking his (very evil) kitty, he failed to hear the thumping of combat boots steadily encroaching down the hall. He failed to hear the metallic din of keys fitting snugly into a lock, and the dull squeak of the bronze door-knob turning. 

His eyes only snapped up when it was too late. When his neighbor walked through the door, and Minho’s heart subsequently faltered in his chest. 

His neighbor came home. While Minho is _in_ his home.

This is, probably, the worst thing to ever happen to Minho. 

Worse than when he slept through his anthropology midterm in freshman year. Worse than when he slipped on the rain-slicked street and tumbled head first into a muddy puddle. Worse than when he thought Soonie got cat-napped a measly hour prior. 

His neighbor, the _owner_ of the apartment Minho _does not own,_ is standing frozen in the doorway. Eyes wide and confused and trained solely on Minho. Stiff and motionless as if he’s secretly a manikin placed strategically in the threshold. 

Oh, also? Said stranger is _gorgeous._ As if that couldn’t make matters worse. 

Like the boy peppered in all the Polaroid pictures on the walls, he has adorably rounded cheeks and glittering eyes like some animated forest critter from a kid’s movie. The gentle slopes of his face contrast with the stark black skinny jeans and onyx leather jacket hugging his slight frame, and the artfully mused mop of brown locks falling askew over his forehead. Soft curves and sharp edges. Ruddy earth tones collaborating with spotless obsidian to create a vision of impeccable beauty.

Minho is as instantly smitten as he is terrified. 

He pushed a gulp down his throat, willing his widened eyes to blink for the first time in what felt like years. They’re just _staring_ at each other, and the silence is beginning to teeter on agonizing. 

“H-hi, neighbor?” Minho managed to force past the lead-ball stuffed down his throat. 

As if on cue, Soonie wriggled free from Minho’s arms and scampered over to the stranger’s skinny-jean clad legs. She then began to nuzzle herself flush against the denim, her tail curling around his ankle as if a piece of living jewelry. As if they’re the best of friends. As if she _knows_ him. 

“Soonie?” The stranger asked with a cock of his head, seeming to conveniently gloss over Minho’s presence. And his more than awkward “introduction”, which Minho couldn’t help but be grateful for.

The cat meowed in delight, and Minho could hear her purring from his spot petrified on the stranger’s rug; the rumbling sounding slightly stilted, from how it reverberated against the grain of his neighbor’s denim jeans. 

But wait a second—

“You know my cat?” 

  
  
  


(ू ͒•‧̫•ू⑅ ͒)

  
  
  
  


If you asked Jisung what he would see when he re-entered his apartment after his shift at 42 Vinyls, he’d say, well, _an empty apartment._

Emphasis on _empty._ As in _everything in its place_ empty. _The way he left it_ empty. _Normal_ empty. 

Because what he found upon opening the door to his home is anything _but_ empty. And normal, for that matter.

There’s a stranger, a whole-ass _human boy_ sitting in the middle of his living room. He's just _sitting_ there, like he owns the place! _Jisung’s_ place! Is he...getting robbed? What exactly is going on here?! He can’t see much of the (possible) robber’s face, because he’s fondly looking down at something cuddled up to his chest.

And that something is _moving,_ and white, and tawny gold, and—oh. Jisung can’t fully put two and two together yet, but he’s got at _least_ half down. He’s got a solid two. 

The mysterious stranger shot his head up at the soft sound of Jisung entering the apartment. And if Jisung’s heart wasn’t beating fast before, it’s nigh _speeding_ right about now. 

This unknown, now _terrified_ looking boy clutching an all-too familiar cat in Jisung’s apartment? Yeah, he’s _fine._ Not just run of the mill _fine,_ he’s _hot_ fine. _Beautiful_ fine, even. Dare Jisung say _ethereal_ fine. 

Despite being agape in what can only be described as pure horror, the boy’s eyes are alight with pricks of light. Rounded like a deer, and soft around the edges. His nose is sharp and perfectly steep, matching the angularity of his manicured brows. His lips are pink and glossed, and even though they’re hanging open in shock, they seem to curl upwards at the corners. Almost as if he’s secretly of feline ancestry himself. 

“H-hi, neighbor.” The boy sputtered out, but it sounded uneasy at best. Unconvincing at worst. 

But at that, the familiar furry lump that was once contentedly snuggled up in the stranger’s lap broke free, before padding over to nuzzle against Jisung’s calves. 

Yup, he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Soonie?” He asked, as if the _cat_ would somehow explain all of this nonsense. 

The boy on his rug cocked his head in confusion, his brows furrowing at the sight of the white and gold kitty purring at the contact with Jisung. “You know my cat?” He inquired, and— _he’s_ Soonie’s owner?! 

That...explains a bit more. Also, Soonie’s owner is _stupid_ pretty. Write that down for future reference, Jisung. 

But _why_ is he in Jisung’s apartment, again? _With_ Soonie? Did the cat plan some kinda...surprise party for him? As a thank you for all the treats? And she decided to invite her previously faceless owner?

Jisung is still very, very tired. Tired enough to ponder if the beautiful boy on his woven rug is the product of a paw-stamped party invitation. 

“O-oh, sorry, random guy in my house. Yeah, I hang out with Soonie all the time in the hallway.” Jisung shook his head of dark brown locks back to reality. And moreso back to the gorgeous boy he accidentally ignored before, in his sheer incredulity. Can you blame him? There's a gorgeous boy in his apartment, who happens to be the owner of Jisung’s best-kitty-friend! He's allowed to be appropriately taken aback! 

The boy scoffed at that _nickname_ , of sorts, before rising to his feet. Damn, he’s got a nice body. Like a dancer, or some shit. Jisung also mentally jotted that down, for future reference. 

“I’m really sorry for,” he began, gesturing vaguely to Jisung’s apartment. Even his hands are pretty. Pretty and small. Jisung wouldn’t mind holding them. “All this.” 

“I promise I’m not some _literal_ cat-burglar, I’m really Soonie’s owner. I left my patio door open and Soonie snuck through, and your door was _also_ open so she got into your apartment, and then I—also snuck in? To get her back, before she caused trouble!” The strange, elegant boy continued, verbally stumbling over his words like a drunkard. 

_Cute,_ Jisung mused at the endearingly sputtering boy. 

Jisung considered his explanation, wordlessly. He looked down to his feet, only to see Soonie peacefully curled up around the toes of his scuffed combat boots. As happy as a kitty-clam. She’s still purring, the vibrations flowing into his rubber soles and the panels of the hardwood floorboards. 

_Well_ , Jisung thought to himself with a smirk, _that just about checks out._

Should he immediately write off his neighbor more or less _breaking_ into his house, just because he’s kind of very cute? No. Is he anyways? A resounding yes. 

Plus, _breaking_ in is a bit of an exaggeration. Nothing’s broken, as far as Jisung can tell. Except for his willpower. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been giving Soonie some treats, so I guess she tried to find more? I’m Jisung, by the way.” He strolled up to the stranger still stiffly stood in his living room, extending his hand in turn. Soonie popped from the floor and followed Jisung’s every step, expertly bobbing and weaving between his twiggy legs with sinuous agility. 

The boy’s eyes bugged out even more at Jisung casually waving off the oddness of their first... _meeting._ But then he shook his head clear, as if telling himself _don’t look a gift horse—or gift neighbor not wanting to kill you—in the mouth._

“U-um, I’m Minho. Lee Minho. It’s nice to meet you, Jisung.” 

Minho reached a hand of his own out, dainty and much smaller than Jisung would have imagined up close, and clasped Jisung’s outstretched palm. His hand is softer than satin and exceedingly warm, Jisung noticed with a quiver of his heart. Damn. He hesitated to let go. 

Falling for a guy who’s cat forced him to sneak into your house? That’s _definitely_ a first. Not like Jisung’s complaining. 

Minho and Jisung migrated to Jisung’s well-worn leather couch soon after—where they spent the rest of the night getting to know each other. Like _normal_ people. After a few minutes, Soonie is reduced to a fuzzy, purring circle nestled snugly between Jisung and Minho’s thighs. 

“Soonie seems to really like you.” Minho observed around 11 in the evening, after Jisung brewed them two cups of fragrant chamomile tea. 

Jisung chuckled in response, a blush painting his cheeks as he handed Minho one of the porcelain cups. “I guess. She probably just likes me for the treats.” 

It was then Minho’s turn to giggle, and Jisung officially wants to commit that melodic sound to memory. Or make it his ringtone. One of the two.

The hours melted by like the last snow between March and April thereafter, and Jisung can say with confidence he’s falling for Minho. _Hard._ Harder than a skipped pebble sinking below the surface of a lake. And if the heavy-lids and shimmering gloss of affection blanketing Minho’s eyes mean anything, Jisung has a sneaking suspicion he might be feeling the same. Soonie, as it seems, is quite the matchmaker. 

When the clock struck 2 in the morning, Jisung and Minho made the collective decision to call it a night. With Soonie safely held in Minho’s arms so she can’t escape again, Jisung made the brief journey to walk Minho back to his apartment. A journey of about 3 feet, since they _are_ neighbors after all.

Neighbors that didn’t even know the other _existed,_ before a certain frisky feline decided to change that. 

“Wanna come over tomorrow? F-for a playdate with Soonie, of course.” The sheer volume of hope brimming in both Minho’s eyes, and in each syllable is enough to bring Jisung to his knees. 

A smile, bright enough to shed blinding light into the abyss of night, bunched Jisung’s rounded cheeks. It reached up to flicker golden bonfires in his eyes, as his vision swam with the human epitome of beauty before him. The human epitome of beauty, who happens to be Jisung’s _neighbor._ And the owner of his feline-best-buddy. Yeah, he's lucky alright, to have met Soonie in the hall that fateful day. 

“I’d love that, Minho. I’ll see you tomorrow, neighbor.” 

Minho’s smile matched Jisung’s in happiness, but if you asked Jisung, he’d tell you for certain that Minho’s grin is 10 times as radiant. Soonie yowled in elation, pawing in Jisung’s general direction as if bidding him farewell—until tomorrow. 

“See you tomorrow, neighbor.” Minho replied without missing a beat. 

And as Minho dipped into his neighboring flat and shut the door, Jisung typed a note into his phone. His thumbs flew across the digital keyboard with manic proficiency, matching the wild beats of his heart. The harsh blue light did little to mask the rosy flush firmly in place on his cheeks. 

_Buy more cat treats for Soonie. And maybe some flowers, for Minho._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a heckin long time ago, so it may not be totally cohesive with my current style! With that being said, I hope u guys liked this! 
> 
> Kudos/comments are my motivation to write ❤️


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